12 Naughty Days of Christmas - 2016

by Jenny Plumb

  “Listen,” he said as they walked across the road and away from the church. “I know you were just trying to be funny, but you have to remember that a lot of people take the sacraments very seriously. It is extremely disrespectful of you to make fun like that where people could overhear. Especially in a place with people who were trying to stay pious or, in some cases, complete their penance.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t think.”

  He drew his hand back and landed a sharp smack on her backside. “Shame I don’t carry a handbag. My mammy used to carry a wooden spoon in her bag. If we even looked like taking it a step too far in the church, her fingers would reach for the zipper.”

  “Really? She would smack you with a wooden spoon in church?” Candy was amazed anyone would do such a thing to their kids while inside the church.

  “No, she never did. It was there though, she knew it, I knew it, we all knew it and by God, no one was ever willing to take the risk.” He smiled in memory. “I bet if they confiscated all the handbags from the mammies in that church and emptied them out onto the pavement outside, they would find enough wood to build the yearly bonfire.”

  Candy giggled. “Your mammy sounds like a very funny, if somewhat formidable woman.”

  “Aw, but she’s lovely.”

  It was her turn to squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry that you can’t be with your family for Christmas, but I’m happy that you’re going to be with mine.”

  “So am I,” he said. “Let’s go and choose some more gifts.”

  Chapter 6

  “I hope you’re hungry. Christmas Eve at our house is a seafood barbecue, oh and every salad you could possibly imagine and none of them healthy; it’s great.”

  “I love seafood.” He did love seafood. He would love whatever he was given, that’s the way he’d been brought up. Still, on the morrow he hoped there would be a roast, hopefully turkey. Get over yourself man, it’s only food.

  “Why don’t you take the stuff we bought to our cabin and I’ll get some sticky tape and scissors from the house?” she said.

  “Yeah fine, but can we hide the stuff and do the stockings after mass?” he asked.

  “Of course. You know more about the stocking thing than me.”

  “Where about should we put them?”

  “I think we should put them on the screened-in part of the veranda. There’s a Christmas tree out there and no animals can get in to steal the chocolates and stuff.”

  “Good idea.” Rowan smiled. For the first time since he’d left his own country, he was feeling excitement about Christmas.

  While Rowan was busy with the presents, Candy snuck some goodies inside the house. She’d had to borrow money from her folks to get the things they needed, but Caroline had been only too pleased to go along with her surprise. “Are you sure it’s not too much to ask to cook a roast inside the house when it’s so hot?”

  “We’re going to cookout outside, love,” Jack said. “We have three webers out there. We’ll show young Rowan how the Aussies can cook a full baked dinner on a barbie. He’ll love it.”

  “While you two are at midnight mass, I’ll run up the road to Agnes’s house. She makes her own mince pies and she said she’ll put some by for me.”

  “I’m so excited, Mum, I could burst,” Candy said. “This is the best Christmas ever.”

  “I can’t wait to have someone to share a stout with me. No one in this house likes it.”

  Candy kissed them both and ran back to the cabin, sticky tape and scissors in hand. “Hi,” she yelled, when she saw Rowan out front.

  “I wondered where you got to. Oi! Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to run with scissors?”

  “Of course she did. She also told me if I pulled a face and the wind changed, my face would stay like that. It never did though.”

  “Cheeky.” He gave her bum a pat. “Let’s get these presents wrapped so we can have dinner and get ready for mass. The kids will want to leave out their cookies and milk and get to bed early so Santa can come, I would imagine. You do do that here, don’t you?”

  “Of course we do. Although, I hear some houses leave beer.”

  “In Ireland too.” He laughed. “Although it’s Guinness and mince pies.”

  “So what did you think of it?” Rowan asked.

  “I liked the feeling of being there. It’s kind of like being a part of something big, isn’t it?”

  “I guess it is, I haven’t thought about it. It’s just something I’ve always done.”

  “I loved the carols.”

  “Yes, well that makes it really feel like Christmas, doesn’t it?”

  “All we’re missing is snow.”

  “Let’s go home and do our stockings.”

  “Now that, I’m really looking forward to. Let’s go.” Once again, he took her hand and they strode up the street towards the car. It was funny; no one was watching and there was no one to impress or fool but it had become the most natural thing in the world.

  As they got closer to the house, Candy started feel excited. The lights in the kitchen were on and she could see heads still bobbing around. They were adult figures; the children would have been to bed long ago. She hoped that Rowan got a kick out of the few little surprises she tried to give him. “Looks like everyone’s still up.”

  “Probably putting together a train set or a bike.” Rowan laughed.

  “Could be, how are you at building kids toys?”

  “I’m ace! No, I don’t have tickets on myself but I’m a mechanic, it helps.”

  As they came up the stairs, Candy could hardly contain herself. She was excited, but also a little worried that what they had planned would come across as silly and over done. When they got inside, they realized it was freezing. They’d gone to mass in their summer clothes and the family had set the air conditioner to very low, while they were gone. That wasn’t all. The table had been set with all the things that they hoped would make Christmas a little more like home for Rowan.

  “Oh my God,” he said. His eyes scanned the table for all the little details that he wouldn’t have expected in a million years. “Irish soda bread,” he said.

  “Google is my friend,” Caroline said. “It’s the first time I made it so I hope it’s okay.”

  “Aw brilliant, it’ll be brilliant, Caroline. Everyone, thank you.”

  “Get that into you,” Jack said handing him a Guinness.

  “I will, thanks.” He spied the other treat that he loved so. “Mince pies.”

  “I know they’ll be good, they’re from an Irish lady that lives up the road.”

  Rowan looked at Candy. “Did you plan all this?” he asked.

  She nodded, too overcome with happiness to answer in words.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thanks much, all of you. You have made me feel really at home here.”

  Rowan was on his fourth minced pie and his fifth Guinness when Charlie presented him with a very pink bike with one wheel and a stuck chain. “I hear you’re good at putting toys together.”

  “That I am. I’ll gladly help.”

  “Does your expertise run to train sets?” Nathan asked.

  “And I do believe there might be a trampoline out the back there somewhere,” Jack said quietly.

  “Really?” Rowan asked. He was confused about that one. “Won’t whoever’s kids own that have to take it down to take it home?”

  “It’s not for the kids,” Jack whispered. “It’s for Caroline.”

  “Don’t ask!” the others all yelled.

  “What did I miss?” Caroline said, coming in from the kitchen.

  “Nothing, Ma,” Candy said.

  Christmas had been so perfect so far that when he opened his eyes in the morning, Rowan half expected to see snow. It wasn’t though. It was better. It was still dark outside and what was in front of his very eyes was one of Father Christmas’s little helpers. She had long brown eyes and blue eyes, not to mention her slightly wicked grin. “I think your skir
t is a tad short there, you bold girl.” She had on striped stockings that finished mid thigh, they were hot.

  “Oh?” Candy said. She turned around and bent over. “Can you see my panties?”

  “No, I can’t.” He’d leapt out of bed now and was sitting on the edge, ready to play the game. “How can I see your knickers when you’ve forgotten to put them on?”

  “Uh oh.”

  “I’ll uh oh you. Come over here then.” He grabbed her hand and toppled her over his knee, lifting the skirt and tucking it in the waistband. “What do we have here?” he asked, running the palm of his hand over the silky soft skin of her bottom before bending to give both cheeks a kiss. He loved the way her bottom bounced back when he pressed it with his fingers. His hand came down twice on each cheek, revelling in the slight colour change and the way the flesh rippled under his hand.

  “Did you want to spank me? Is that why you left me the costume on the bed?” she asked, wiggling her bottom to gain his attention.

  He stopped immediately. “I didn’t leave the costume,” he said. “I thought you got it when you were in town.”

  “No, this is a small town, Rowan, there aren’t any sex shops here.”

  “Then who could have left it?” Candy immediately started pulling at it. “My mum!” she squealed. “Get it off me quick!”

  Rowan tried to help, but he couldn’t stop laughing long enough to get his fingers working. “You don’t know it was your mam,” he said through his tear-filled eyes.

  “It has to be her,” Candy said, ripping off the last of the costume and jumping up and down naked to shake off any last threads that may have also touched her mother’s body.

  “Well, I have to say I like the improved version even more,” Rowan said pulling her onto the bed beside him. “You know, I think you may be right. This is a crazy family, but I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.”

  “I guess it is pretty funny.”

  “Wanna make out anyway, without the costume?”

  “It definitely has to be without the costume.” She climbed onto his lap and straddled him, happily letting him slide inside.

  They had fallen asleep again wrapped in each other’s arms, but when the banging started on the door again, Candy jumped. Thank God, they’d made sure the door was locked. It wasn’t her mother this time, but children’s voices were happily tittering.

  “Aunt Candy, Uncle Rowan you have to come, Santa’s been!”

  “We’ll be there in a minute,” Candy called. “We just have to get dressed.”

  “You can wear your pyjamas, it’s Christmas!” Jackson called through the door.

  “Okay, you go up, we won’t be long.”

  Rowan had leapt out of bed and put the shower on so she jumped in with him. “No funny business this time,” he said. “The children are waiting.”

  “It was you that joined me in the shower, not the other way around.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed because you can’t keep your hands to yourself, you’re only human.”

  She hauled off and slapped his behind. The sound was so loud it scared the both of them. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to be that hard.” Candy backed away from Rowan who was wearing a look that meant he was about to exact his revenge.

  “There’s a spanker and a spankee in this relationship and you, my love, are not the spanker.” He turned her about and slapped her behind several times, although nowhere near hard. “Got it?”

  “Which part? The part about the spanker or the part about the relationship?”

  “I told you before, if we started there’d be no coming back from it, Candy. I think you’re stuck with me.”

  “I’ll take that.”

  “Now can we open presents?” Crystal begged.

  “Now you can open presents.”

  “Can I ask a really big favour?” Rowan asked. “I want to call my mam for Christmas but I want to do it now. I don’t mean to be rude, but she worries. I want her to hear all the children laughing and yelling. I want her to know I found a family out here.”

  “Of course,” Caroline said. “You go right ahead.”

  “Mam?” Rowan said, tearing up at the sound of his mam’s voice. “It’s me. Yes, Mam, I went to mass, and Mam, my new girlfriend came with me. I’m here now with her family. That’s the children all opening their presents, hear? I am happy, Mam, say hello to everyone for me and, Mam, Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas Mam!” everyone yelled at once.

  “Did you get the little present I left on your bed last night?” Andy asked.

  “That was you?” Candy breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

  The End

  About the Author

  Constance Masters

  I am a wife, a mother, a grandmother and an author. I guess my love of writing began when I was in school. It was the subject I loved most.

  I didn’t write while my oldest children were small because I was busy raising them. Also, there was in Internet then… there weren’t many computers at all and those that -were there were not much more than glorified typewriters. The Internet and high-tech computers make life so much easier and although I still have a couple of children at home, I have much more time to write.

  Visit her website here:

  http://www.constancemasters.com

  Visit her blog here:

  http://creativelyconstance.blogspot.com

  Don’t miss these exciting titles by Constance Masters and Blushing Books!

  A Lie Unraveled

  Trickery

  An Unexpected Wife

  Saving Summer

  The Grass Could Be Greener

  Double Trouble

  An Unexpected Husband

  Becky’s Last Chance

  The One She Loves (Corbin’s Bend)

  Leading the Way (Corbin’s Bend)

  Audio Books:

  An Unexpected Wife

  Chapter 1

  Lucinda stepped onto the scales, half hopeful, half fearful. She’d stuck to her fruit and crispbread diet all week, hadn’t slept well most nights due to hunger; surely all that virtue would garner a reward? The scales hesitated for a few seconds before announcing her new weight. Lucinda punched the air like she was a champion gymnast or ice skater and the glowing red numbers had declared her winning score. Eight pounds lost! Huzzah! Take that, body. FINALLY you are being owned!

  Lighter in spirit as well as weight, Lucinda dressed quickly for work. She could hear Broderick moving around in the neighbouring bedroom and she didn’t want to end up stuck on the tube with him. Already her skirt was less tight around the tummy. A few more weeks of crispbread and fruit and her clothes would be hanging off her. She’d buy really cool new ones, show off her new figure at Aurora’s New Year’s Eve party.

  New Year, new figure, new start. New Lucinda.

  Except she had to get through Christmas first.

  She eyed herself sternly in the elderly dressing-table mirror, brandishing mascara. “Don’t think about Christmas. It’s still two weeks away.”

  She put on make-up, cursing the freckles that covered her nose even in winter, and twisted her dark brown hair into a ponytail. She packed her bag ready for work. Banana – check. Apple – check. Crispbreads – check. Phone – check. Oyster card – check.

  She tucked her wallet into her knickers drawer. No money, no credit card, no food.

  She pulled on her coat, hurried downstairs and opened the front door. A blast of icy cold hit her. The front lawn and pavement glistened with frost. She turned right towards the main road that led to the Turnpike Lane tube station.

  “Hey, Lucinda! Wait up!”

  Damn. She hadn’t been quick enough. Reluctantly, she waited for Broderick to catch up. Several people walked past on their way to the tube, rugged up in heavy coats, scarves, beanies, gloves.

  “Good morning.” Broderick’s breath plumed like steam in the frosty air. He wore an elegant dark grey coat, leather gloves and a stripy
scarf, but his head was bare. Lucinda was struck again by how good-looking he was with his wavy auburn hair, fashionable lumbersexual beard and friendly grin. Most of the women at Clarkson’s had been smitten when he’d snared the job of acting creative manager.

  The job she’d wanted.

  “Hey,” she replied, disgruntled. She started walking again.

  “Cold morning,” he remarked, falling into step beside her.

  “You should go on Mastermind,” she answered. “Name: Broderick Jameson. Specialist subject: the bleeding obvious.”

  Careful, she warned herself. He is your boss. You don’t want to get him offside and have him fire you on top of all the other crap things that have happened this year.

  But Broderick didn’t appear to have taken offence. He chuckled. “I thought you Poms liked talking about the weather.”

  “We like complaining about it.”

  “There’s plenty to complain about, that’s for sure. I’ve only been here a few weeks and mostly it’s rained.”

  “I don’t understand why you wanted to move over here to our rubbish weather when you have all that sunshine in Australia.” Taking the job that should have been mine, she added silently.

  When Lisa had gone on maternity leave and Lucinda had applied for the acting manager role, she’d been confident of getting it. She’d worked for Clarkson’s for almost two years now, since she’d first moved to London. Before that, she’d spent four years working for a marketing agency in Manchester, where she’d grown up. Six years working in graphic design, including on two award-winning campaigns. Her latest award had come only six weeks before Lisa’s maternity leave. Lucinda had been flavour of the month at Clarkson’s. Lisa loved her work. There were rumours human resources wanted to appoint an internal candidate. Lucinda’s interview had gone well, she was sure the position was a given.